Wings of a Moth
by Yumiko Kaze
Summary: SEQUEL UPLOADED! Miaka finds a small, unusual, friend. What if a Seishi was reincarnated into something unexpected? What if a little magic was involved? I warn you, this is fairy-tale esque! Hotohori Miaka.
1. Wings of a Moth

            AN: Alright. I will admit that this fic doesn't really make much sense in the cannon FY timeline. I came up with this idea while on a block and thought it was just really adorably cute.

Okay. The basic jist of it is this: What if the Seishi weren't necessarily reincarnated into humans when they were reborn? Basically one of them is reborn as something unexpected… Aw… just read it!

Wings of a Moth

Yumiko Kaze

"Aieee!" screeched Yui, bolting out of her room and right into her best friend who had been about to enter said room.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Miaka frowned, curiously tilting her head to the side as she observed her best friend wriggle and twitch like she was on some sort of drug.

Yui sputtered for another moment or so, unable to find the words, before pointing in the direction of her bedroom.

Unsure what had caused her normally composed friend to throw such a hissy fit, Miaka poked her head through the doorway, looking for any sign of danger.

All she saw was… a room.

Yui's things all seemed to be in order. The bed was, as usual, neatly made, and the desk was as free of clutter as ever. Miaka made a face. How could anyone be so _neat_? Her own bedroom had often been compared to a war zone or – her mothers favorite – a pigsty.

She turned around to face Yui, "What are you so freaked out about? There's nothing in there!"

Yui had taken refuge on the far end of the hallway at this point and waved an arm wildly, "It's in there Miaka! Get it! Kill it!"

"Kill what?" Miaka was horribly confused. She knew her best friend well enough that she knew Yui wasn't the type to have delusions about monsters under the bed or in the closet. So what was wrong? 

Then again…

They _had just seen Jeepers Creepers 2 a few hours ago. After laughing and (occasionally) shrieking throughout the entire movie, the girls had migrated to Yui's house. Laughing about how the movie was good, but not exactly the scariest._

_It is around ten, and it is… Miaka glanced out the window (which Yui hadn't bothered to close the blinds to) and shivered, _pretty damn dark outside…__

It was while she was imagining the demon from the movie leaping through the window that something dark flitted right in front of her face.

"Aiyip!" she squeaked, leaping backwards and into Yui's bureau and eying the offending "monster."

She clutched her hand in front of her chest as she tried to slow her heart rate, her momentarily terrified features breaking into a grin. "So that's it." She giggled slightly.

"Did you get it?" asked Yui from the hallway.

"Yui, get over it. It's just a moth. No big deal." She had forgotten that her best friend had an aversion to tiny creatures such as moths and spiders. After what they'd faced in the book, being afraid of such a little thing seemed kind of… lame. 

On the other hand, if it had been a _June bug…_

Okay so maybe being afraid of a moth wasn't that lame…

"Get over it?" Yui gained enough courage to stick her head in the doorway, still keeping one eye on the moth as it flew into the light fixture time after time. "You wouldn't say that if it was _June bug_!" 

Miaka twitched at the word. Give her spiders, bees, mosquitos, and moths and Miaka would gladly kill or remove it from the premises. But she absolutely positively _despised June bugs._

When she had been seven years old, her family had been outside in the park near dusk. When the lights for the parking lot had turned on, the air had soon buzzed with the sound of cicada's and June bugs. It wasn't long before one of them had landed in Miaka's hair.

Her father had plucked the insect from the seven year old's hair and knelt down, a teasing light in his eye. "It's a good thing I caught this thing when I did. Do you know why?"

Miaka had shaken her head, "No."

Her father held the bug between his thumb and forefinger, at eye level with his daughter. "Because these things like to crawl into your ears and get behind your ear drum. When that happens you can _never get them out."_

Miaka's eyes had gradually gotten wider throughout this. She would have had a bug living in her head for the rest of her life? Would it lay eggs there? They would hatch and eat their way into her brain and eat it from the inside out!

Miaka had spent the rest of the night sitting in the car with a paper bag over her head in order to keep the June bugs away. Keisuke had given her Hell for it.

She glared at Yui. "That's _not_ fair. I actually have a _reason for hating those things, but to my knowledge, _moths_ can't hurt you."_

Yui ducked and swatted at the moth blindly as it flitted in her direction, "That doesn't mean I have to like them! Get it _out_ of here!"

Sighing, Miaka reached for a tissue. Why did she always end up being the one to kill the bugs? She waited for the moth to land somewhere so she could squish it.

However. The moth had other plans.

The girls watched as he moth flew into the light fixture repeatedly, and Miaka couldn't help but feel a little sorry for it. If _she_ didn't kill it the thing would likely kill itself. 

She watched as it suddenly veered away from the light fixture and began to fly in tiny circles. The creature would fly left for about a minute, the circles spiraling downward, and then it would stop, fly back towards the light and spiral down in the opposite direction. Occasionally it would dive bomb, hit the ground, and then fly back up again.

Pity for the insect built in Miaka as she watched it flit pathetically about Yui's room. How long had it been trapped up here?

"I think its inner ear's been tampered with." Yui commented from the doorway. She had seemed to overcome her initial skittishness, because she was actually inside the door now.

Miaka nodded as she settled onto Yui's bed. The poor thing couldn't even fly straight. "I think it's dying. We should just leave it alone."

"I don't want it dying in here!" Yui screeched quietly. "What if it dies on my _bed? I don't want moth parts in my bed!"_

Miaka sighed, "It's not like it'd kill you, you know. He'll probably just go sit in a corner when he does it anyway."

"I still don't want it dying in here! Get rid of it!"

Miaka had already decided that she wasn't going to kill the tiny creature. It was just… too _sad to watch it falter in the air and fall off of whatever it landed on. She didn't want to let it outside either. A bird might eat it._

Since when did she have such a soft spot for bugs?

That was when the moth went into another spiral and landed on Miaka's leg.

Carefully Miaka lifted her leg up onto the bed and examined the moth. 

Yep. 

It definitely wasn't going to last too much longer. It's dark brown wings were tattered and ragged looking. The dust on them was in clumps, leaving the wings somewhat drab looking compared to what they should have been. After a moment Miaka decided that it must have landed on her in an attempt to blend into her dark jeans.

On closer inspection, she noticed that the creature had very unusual eyes. They were large, in typical moth fashion, but they were also very yellow, almost gold in color. It seemed to be looking right back at her, twitching its tiny antennae as she looked at it.

"Hiya." She whispered, stroking an antenna with a finger. She was surprised when the insect didn't pull away; merely sat there, almost as if it were enjoying the attention.

"What are you waiting for? Kill it!" Yui was closer now, but still within escape distance of the door should the bug decide to fly at her face.

Miaka continued to stroke the moth's antennae and head, "I don't want to. He's… cute."

Yui scoffed at the notion as the moth twitched his wings importantly. As though he knew he'd just received a compliment. "Cute. Yeah. _Real cute. You just keep him over there." The blonde sat down next to the door._

Soon, the moth was forgotten as the two girls chatted about everything from school to things that they had done when they were little. That is, until he once again launched into erratic flight.

The moth seemed to have a short memory span. He repeated everything he had done in his earlier flight, except after having run into the light fixture repeatedly, and likely feeling more than a little dizzy from all his spinning, the moth immediately returned to _Miaka_ rather than suffer falling off the wall, the desk, and the bookshelf again.

Miaka lifted her hand that the moth had landed on. "Hello again." She said. It waved its antennae and twitched its wings again before turning in a circle like a cat would and settled down to rest.

"I think you've made a friend." Yui noted, having risked it to come closer to where Miaka sat in order to see the moth.

Miaka laughed, "Yeah."

The girls watched, in slight awe of the tiny creature's absurd behavior. Neither of them had really paid attention to bugs before, but this one was quite interesting.

The moth preened itself with its legs, moving them over its face and antennae with the greatest of care, and Miaka couldn't help but think that the moth was reminding her of someone she'd once known.

Someone who had been very special to her.

Yui snorted, "That is one very narcissistic moth.

Miaka had to say she agreed.

"So how's Taka?" asked Yui.

Miaka shifted, "Eh… he's… fine. I guess." She shrugged. "I really wouldn't know. He never calls me." She sighed, Taka had moved to Tibet a few months ago and either he had lost interest in her and found some Tibetan woman he liked more than her… or wherever he was didn't have phones.

Miaka had realized after about a month and a half that he wasn't coming back.

Yui dropped the subject, turning instead to safer topics.

Miaka had never really considered herself an insect lover, but this one she was beginning to get attached to. It had repeated its insane flight pattern several times over, but once it was done, it always returned to Miaka.

It was around eleven when Miaka decided she had better get home. She attempted to shake off the bug so that it could go die in peace, but the moth stubbornly clung to her hand, refusing to go anywhere.

"I swear, that stupid moth loves you to bits, doesn't it?" Yui said as she helped Miaka collect her purse and a few scattered notebooks.

The brunette lifted her finger, to which the moth still clung contentedly. As both girls watched the insect curiously, the long feeding tube which was normally kept curled in gracefully beneath its head, unfurled and tapped Miaka's skin lightly. Since the moth weighed next to nothing anyway, she couldn't feel it, but for some reason it reminded her of the way that a dog licks its master's hand.

_Dear gods, I think I have a new pet…_

"Did that moth just kiss you?" asked Yui incredulously. "That is one _strange little bug."_

Miaka shrugged, "I suppose he did." And with that she walked out to her car.

She had expected the moth to fly away once it realized it was outside, but it stayed put until she got into her car when she gently nudged it onto the dashboard. It twitched its wings once again, though if it was saying "thank you" or merely preening itself again, she could not say.

_Yui's__ right. The moth is a bloody narcissist!_

Miaka was surprised that the moth had somehow decided to stay with her through the entire car ride and he entire way up the stairs to her apartment. She could tell the poor thing was going to be dead very soon or it would have made it's escape long ago.

"Poor thing." She sighed, "You can stay in my room."

She set the moth on her dresser and got ready for bed. Right before she turned out the lights she glanced back at it. The moth was lying still, its wings folded in such a way that it made the insect appear to blend right into the wood. She shook her head. She knew it would be dead by morning.

Flicking the lights off, Miaka crawled into her bed and stared out the window. The wind was blowing harshly and she knew that it was turning bitterly cold with the approach of winter. She looked back at the dresser and as she drifted off to sleep, feeling content that she had done the small creature a favor.

When she was finally asleep, the moth toddled to the edge of the dresser, on the verge of falling a dizzying height of about three feet. It twitched its antennae again in the darkness. Wondering where its companion had gone to.

Yui and Miaka had been right. The moth was dying. It had spent the last day or so of its life trapped in Yui's room, turning circles and running into things endlessly. Then at last, the human had offered him some respite. It was for that human which he now searched.

Using the last of his strength, the moth launched himself into the air and in yet another fit of spirals and dive-bombs, managed to make it to the bed with the help of his half-dead echolocation. 

Tired from all the earlier exertion, the moth toddled over the many wrinkles in the comforter. Each one was the size of the Grand Canyon or larger. The tiny creature began to think that he would never find his way through.

At last, the moth reached the pillow. Crawling carefully up the soft fabric, the moth flitted lightly to the girls face. She gave no notice to the feeling of moth's wings dancing across her cheek.

Miaka's soft breathing filled the room. The moth's antennae wavered a bit as he trekked across the pale skin. Lightly, the proboscis unfurled to lightly stroke the girl's skin. It was what Yui had earlier referred to as a kiss. Miaka stirred slightly and rolled a bit to the side.

Lit by the shafts of moonlight coming through the window, the moth twitched his wings and preened once again. Turning in a circle on the girls face, he settled down: content, at last, to spend the few remaining moments of his life where he was.

It was as the moths life ended, that something completely unexpected and altogether unnatural happened. When the silvery beams of the moonlight filtering in through the blinds hit the moth's wings, the tiny creature simply disappeared in a smattering of silver light.

Miaka murmured something in her sleep as she swatted sleepily at the tickling sensation on her face. Sighing, the girl grabbed a fistful of blankets and yanked them further up around her chin. Curling onto her side and pressing her face into her pillow, the girl drifted off even farther into dreamland without ever noticing that she was no longer alone.

Not wanting to wake the sleeping girl, the man simply laid his arm lightly across the girl's waist and hugged her to him, hoping that she was a heavy sleeper as he did so. He was rewarded with a contented sigh and smiled as she unconsciously shifted closer to him in her sleep. As she slept, her auburn hair; nearly black in the dark, spilled across her face and shoulders in the very picture of innocence and peace.

Gods she was beautiful.

His golden eyes shone with tears as he looked down at her. How long had he waited for her? How many lives had he endured in order to find her? 

Brushing her bangs back with a gentle hand, Hotohori placed a single gentle kiss, light as the touch of a moths wings, on her forehead before settling back down to lie his own head next to hers on the pillow. Wrapping his arms around her waist possessively, he positioned himself so that his chin rested lightly on Miaka's shoulder, his nose just brushing her ear. 

Hotohori had just allowed himself to drift off to sleep when he felt the girl in his arms stir slightly. He felt his heart leap into his throat at the thought of what she would think of finding him in her room so unexpectedly. What was he to tell her? That she had been kind enough to take in a dying moth and that said moth had actually been one of her Seishi, just waiting to find her before he could return to his true shape?

Yeah. That'll work.

He felt relief flow throughout him when Miaka simply rolled over in her sleep so that she was facing him. Hotohori smiled and tucked her head under his chin. Thankful that, for now, he could just be content in holding her. With one hand he pulled the blankets that Miaka wasn't hogging over himself and curled around the sleeping girl.

He'd explain it all in the morning.

~ Owari

AN: Okay folks. Like it? Hate it? Wish to burn me at the stake? Please tell me!

Things I know I slacked on:

Taka's having left: I know, I know. **Tibet****? You sent him to _**Tibet**_****? Yes. Yes I did. And he's staying there so Miaka and Hoto-chan can fall in love and get married! :P So there. I was too lazy to come up with a better "get rid of Taka" plan.**

Why the Hell is Hotohori a moth?: *shrug* I thought it was a cute story…

Why did he turn human?: Ever see the "Swan Princess"? It's kinda like that, except now he's human for good, not just at night…


	2. Finding You Again

ATTENTION ALL READERS!!!  
  
This is NOT my story. I wrote "Wings of a Moth" but "Finding You Again" belongs to Stromlight! Stormlight asked me if she could write a sequel and because I love her writing so much, I let her. She has also been kind enough to allow me to post it as the second chapter to my story! *cheers and waves flags* Yay! Well. That's about it. I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that I didn't write this. Giving credit to where it's due and all that.  
  
Finding You Again  
by Stormlight  
Sequel to Yumiko Kaze's "Wings of a Moth"  
  
Miaka was having a very nice dream.  
  
She dreamed that she was back in Konan, at a grand banquet in the palace, and that she was dancing in someone's arms.which was rather odd, really, considering that she didn't know how to dance. And besides.why in the world would they be dancing the waltz in Ancient China, anyway?  
  
But that hardly mattered, now did it? And it wasn't as though she was thinking of those things at the moment, anyway. She had much more important things to think of, such as how her partner's arms were strong and firm around her, holding her possessively close. How his long, beautiful hair fell all around them in a cool, silken mantle (So familiar.now.who did she know that had such hair, she wondered languorously), and every once in awhile she felt soft, warm lips brushing her temple, sending a kind of thrill straight down to her toes. She couldn't see his face; she couldn't really see much of anything, actually, but that didn't bother her, either. Everything around her-including her partner-was kind of hazy and blurry, as though she was gazing through the kind of wavering air that could only rise off the floor of a desert, but without the unbearable heat. But she was warm, oh yes; her partner's body heat soaked into her and made her feel languid and sleepy and she did not hesitate to lean into him and rest her head against his broad chest, feeling those arms tighten around her just a little more. She couldn't remember ever feeling so at peace.  
  
But then she woke up.  
  
It was a gentle awakening, but it was an awakening nonetheless, and Miaka fought it with all her might, not wanting to lose the precious sensation of being held so lovingly in this strangely familiar embrace. Her features, once relaxed in sleep, began to grimace in irritation as she squeezed her eyes tighter in an effort to hold onto the fading dream, but it was no good, and the last vestiges faded away to leave her feeling bereft and abandoned, lying all alone in her bed.  
  
Only.she wasn't alone.  
  
The arms were still there, she realized with a slight flush of panic, still holding her so close, and she could feel herself pressed against a warm, hard body that had obviously not been there when she'd fallen asleep. One of her legs had at some point shifted across his own (she knew it was a him, even without opening her eyes), and she felt her face flush at the sudden realization that, good grief, she was practically draped around him! Her heart abruptly migrated into her throat and she swallowed around it with difficulty as she kept her eyes firmly closed, not wanting to see what every other sense was telling her was true.  
  
There was a man sleeping with her in her bed.  
  
Okay.okay. Calm down, Miaka. You can handle this. It isn't as though you've never had a man in your bed before. She paused. Well, okay, so she'd never had a man in her bed before, not even Taka, heaven bless his back-stabbing little soul. She grimaced. Bad thoughts.bad thoughts. Concentrate on the important things, please.like why was there a man sleeping in her bed?!  
  
But.but.there was something strangely soothing about this presence, she realized suddenly, something calm and dear and oh-so-familiar, as though she'd known him before. Aside from the obvious, she was surprised at herself to discover that she really wasn't as panicked about her current situation as she thought she should be. She was rather enjoying it too much to be too upset. It's like my dream, she suddenly realized, as her heart skipped a couple of beats. It's him. My partner in the dream.only he's here.  
  
And she knew. It was an epiphany, a sudden realization, striking her like a lightning bolt. The partner that she'd failed to fully recognize in her dream was suddenly crystal-clear in her mind, and her breath stilled in her throat. "It can't be.it can't be.I'm still dreaming, that's it," she whispered to herself, suddenly afraid to wake up, for fear that if she did he'd be gone.  
  
"Why don't you open your eyes and find out," a deep, soothing voice murmured in her ear, warm breath drifting softly across her cheek and effectively kicking her heart into an erratic, pounding rhythm. With another yip much like the one she'd released upon first finding the moth in Yui's room, her eyes shot open.and she abruptly found her gaze locked onto an intense, golden stare.  
  
"H-Hotohori."  
  
His name left her lips on a quivering breath, her flushed cheeks paling at the sight that beheld her eyes. It was him it was him it was him. He was exactly as she remembered him. The same finely sculpted features, the same soft smile, the same beautiful, golden eyes that seemed to always be filled with such gentle love and devotion, gazing at her through long, soft lashes and silken strands of tarnished-silver hair, slightly mussed from sleep. Almost in a trance, one hand came up to touch his face gently, tracing lightly over his cheek, memorizing the feel of smooth, warm flesh beneath her fingers. "H-how.?" she murmured.  
  
He rose gracefully into a sitting position, leaning over her with one arm bracing his weight beside her head. The blankets fell to his waist in a messy pile and his hair streamed over his shoulders and down his bare back, but he barely noticed this as his hand came up to capture her own, threading his fingers through hers and bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss into her palm. He watched as a faint flush crept into her white cheeks, resisting the urge to kiss more than just her palm. Instead, he copied her gesture and reached up to stroke his hand against her face, relishing the contact of soft skin against his knuckles. "I have you to thank, Miaka," he murmured, her name falling from his tongue like honey.  
  
Her eyes widened. "M-me? Wh-what did I do?" Her voice came out in a high squeak and she internally winced. What was wrong with her? She'd never felt this flustered in the Seishi's presence before! Well.not much, anyhow, she amended sheepishly. But.but before Tamahome was always there and then after that Taka was there only now he wasn't and.and Hotohori was sitting there.looking at her as though he'd like to eat her alive and.and.  
  
.and he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.  
  
Miaka squeaked as she abruptly and rather belatedly realized this important little fact. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers as they fell from his face to his rather naked, sculpted, and finely-muscled chest (she refused to think about why the sight of it made her so light-headed.), down his torso to where the blankets were bunched around his waist. She couldn't see much beyond that.but she was pretty certain he wasn't wearing a whole lot down there, either.  
  
Between one heartbeat and the next, she was out of the bed and standing on the other side of the room, staring at her Seishi with an expression of scandalized horror. Hotohori, for his part, merely blinked at her-looking somewhat adorably confused-before glancing down at himself where he seemed to realize, for the first time, his disturbing lack of clothes.  
  
Now, the former emperor of Konan was not a man who embarrassed easily, and he most certainly did not blush, but even he could not keep the dark red flush from slowly crawling into his cheeks as he stared down at himself, for a moment forgetting the fact that he had a very good reason for being completely naked. After all, moths didn't exactly go around wearing imperial robes, now did they? And it seemed kind of silly (and just a bit unnatural) to have been given his human body back complete with clothes. After all, humans weren't normally born wearing clothes, and he'd just been reborn in a matter of speaking, so.  
  
Or maybe it was just that Suzaku had a really perverted sense of humor.  
  
But whatever the reason, Hotohori knew that he'd better explain himself (and fast) before Miaka snapped out of her stupor and he wound up missing a few of his teeth. His priestess, after all, was rather notorious for overreacting to little incidents like this.  
  
"M-Miaka, I can explain this, truly," he began, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.or maybe just to ward off any possible oncoming blows. "I wasn't trying to.I'd never take advantage.that is." He trailed off, brow furrowing as he sought to explain his rather unbelievable story. He supposed he could be grateful that she hadn't started throwing things at him yet.  
  
Miaka didn't seem to be paying attention, he realized with a blink. Rather than him, her gaze was now fixed on the dresser which she was standing beside, and her brow was furrowed in an expression of distress. "Miaka?" he asked cautiously, wondering what had upset her. Aside from himself, of course.  
  
"It's gone," she murmured, almost to herself.  
  
Hotohori blinked again. Gone? What was gone? And then he remembered.the dresser was where she'd put him when he was still the moth; no doubt she was expecting him to still be there, even if he would have been dead by then. He was gratified to know, however, that she cared enough about him, even as a tiny, insignificant insect, to feel saddened that he was missing. Only he wasn't, and he needed to explain that to her. "Miaka, it's all right," he told her soothingly. "You need not worry about the moth anymore."  
  
She turned her gaze back to him, not realizing or not caring about the fact that he shouldn't know what was distressing her when he hadn't even been there. "I kind of liked that moth," she told him sadly. "He was.I dunno. He needed me. I mean, he was just a moth and he's probably dead now, anyway, but." She sighed and shrugged, smiling a little self-consciously. "I suppose you think I'm being silly, huh?"  
  
"Not at all," he assured her warmly. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, careful to keep all his private parts.private, and tied the sheet securely around his waist before standing gracefully to make his way over to her. She was blushing again, he noted, but she didn't seem inclined to wallop him with a hairbrush or anything. That was good, right? A bit emboldened, he allowed his smile to widen as he stated a bit impishly, "I suppose you're wondering why I showed up in your bedroom, in the middle of the night, a bit less than.adequately clothed."  
  
Her blush deepened charmingly. "The thought had crossed my mind." came the somewhat sheepish reply. Then, much more softly, shyly, ".but I am glad to see you, Hotohori. I missed you. I really, really missed you."  
  
His heart leapt and he fought the urge to take her right there and kiss her breathless. And do much more than that. Instead, he closed his eyes and released a long, heartfelt sigh. "As I have missed you," he breathed. "I am so glad to have finally found you again. I've searched and waited for so long."  
  
And this time, she was his. He felt it in his heart. After all, he was here, and Taka obviously wasn't. So although he didn't know what had happened to the other man, he found that he couldn't bring himself to be concerned over his absence. It wasn't that he disliked the former Seishi- they had been brothers in spirit, after all, being tied together by their destiny-but Tamahome had always been his rival, and now.well.perhaps Miaka's eyes were open. Perhaps she could now see what Tamahome's presence had always blinded her to before.  
  
She was staring at the dresser again, or rather, at the floor around the dresser, as though searching for something, and he reached out to cup her chin and gently bring her gaze back to meet his own. "Do not worry," he whispered. "I assure you, your moth is just fine. Alive and well, and grateful for your kindness."  
  
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "H-how do you know that?" she demanded. "It was dying, Hotohori."  
  
"Yes. And now it lives again. Because it.I.finally found you."  
  
She blinked at him in confusion, and then, as his words began to fully register, her eyes widened. "Y-you mean.you were.it was you?" At his slow smile and the single nod of his head, she sputtered, "But.but.how could that possibly be true? It's.unbelievable!"  
  
"Not all people are reborn as humans," he told her, smiling softly at her pole-axed expression.  
  
"But.why.why a moth?" she asked. "I mean." She paused, then continued on a bit shyly, "I would have thought you'd choose to be something a little less.plain. Like.a butterfly or a Bird of Paradise or.or a cat or something."  
  
Hotohori smiled softly, his fingers stroking down the side of her face. "Did you know," he began gently, "that in my culture, there is a belief that moths are a symbol of a loved one returning to you?"  
  
Miaka blinked at him. "R-really?"  
  
"Yes," he assured her. "I believe it's rather fitting that, after all the lives I have lived, it should be as a common little moth that I finally found you again. Besides.it never really mattered to me what I was reborn as," he added softly, ".so long as it led me to you."  
  
She looked at him in wonderment. That was about the most un-narcissistic thing she'd ever heard him say. "You.wanted to find me that badly?" she asked softly.  
  
"I have searched a hundred lifetimes," he murmured, reaching out to cup her face in both hands. His eyes glowed with warmth as he gazed down at her dazed face. "I would have searched a hundred more. I would have waited an eternity to be with you.because I belong to you."  
  
Miaka stared up at him, her eyes growing glassy with tears, and with a little sob, she stepped forward, slipping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his chest. He felt the hot tears scald his skin and wrapped his own arms around her small body, holding onto her as tightly as he dared, lowering his face to her hair and fighting back more tears of his own. To have her in his arms again.for her to so willingly be there.it was the greatest gift he could have asked for.  
  
Miaka could hardly believe that she was standing there enveloped in Hotohori's embrace again. It was like a dream. It didn't even bother her that he wasn't wearing much more than a sheet; she just didn't want to let him go, for fear that he might vanish again. She'd known that she missed him-she missed all of her Seishi-but she'd never realized just how much until this moment, now that she finally had him with her again.  
  
What was this feeling in her stomach, this tingling, excited feeling? It was the kind she used to feel with Tamahome when she'd first fallen in love with him, but was it ever this intense? She'd loved Tamahome, and she'd loved Taka, had been heartbroken when she realized he'd abandoned her. She'd even gone so far as to swear to herself to never love anyone that deeply ever again.  
  
But now, as Hotohori murmured her name into her hair, she couldn't help but wonder.  
  
She shyly raised her face to meet Hotohori's gaze, and her breath caught at the sight of strong emotions shining intensely in those golden eyes. He still loved her as much as, if not more than, he ever had, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe she loved him a lot more than she'd ever been willing to admit before. Everything he'd offered her in the past.everything he was offering her now.she was finally free to accept it. And.how could she possibly refuse him again? How could she ever forgive herself, if she broke his heart a second time?  
  
So when he once again placed a hand under her chin to raise her face further to his own, she didn't resist as he lowered his head to hers. She didn't resist as his eyes slipped closed, masking those breathtaking emotions, and she didn't resist when his lips softly covered her own in the gentlest of caresses that quickly intensified into something deep and passionate and hungry. She released a soft sigh into his mouth, melting into him as the strength bled from her legs, allowing him to ravish her lips to his heart's content and returning the kiss with equal fervor.  
  
A long while later, when breathing became a necessity, they eased their kiss to gaze in wonder into each other's eyes, hearts racing erratically as they struggled to gain some semblance of thought. Hotohori pulled her to him again, cradling her head beneath his chin as he pressed soft kisses into her hair. "I love you, Miaka," he murmured. "I love you. I love you."  
  
"I know," she whispered, tightening her hold around his waist. "I love you, too, Hotohori." It was the first time she'd ever been able to admit it. It seemed inconceivable to her that she'd tried so hard to deny it. He was so dear to her, why couldn't she have let herself see it before? She might have spared him-and maybe herself-a lot of pain, she thought guiltily. But Hotohori didn't seem to hold it against her; his response to her soft confession was to hold her even closer, his lips caressing her face and neck, pressing soft kisses to her skin before moving to take her lips again. He really was hungry for her, after having waited for so long to find her again. And she certainly wasn't complaining.  
  
Somehow, they wound up back on her bed, with him leaning over her and smiling down at her tenderly. His hair spilled over his shoulders and caressed her face with satin fingers, and she was reminded suddenly of another time when she'd been in this exact same position, back in Konan, when Tamahome had been under the curse of Kodoku. Only this time, as Hotohori moved to kiss her, she allowed him to do so, pushing all thoughts of Tamahome from her mind as she felt warm lips caress her neck in the softest of kisses.  
  
"Miaka," he murmured, pulling away slowly to gaze down at her seriously. "I want to know.what happened to Tamahome?"  
  
She flinched slightly, dropping her gaze from his, as though ashamed. "H- he left.about six months ago," she replied in almost a whisper, her voice betraying the pain she still felt at her beloved's abandonment. "He moved to another country. I.thought it was only for a little while but.he hasn't come back yet. I.I don't really expect that he will," she finished. "It seems that he's had enough of me." She tried to smile weakly, but it came out as more of a grimace. "So much for destiny, huh?"  
  
Hotohori's sparking eyes clearly told of the fury he felt at the man's betrayal. After everything those two had been through to be together, how could Taka have so callously up and left? It.just didn't make sense to him! "If I could, I would run him though with a sword.again.for what he has done to you," he told her in a low, intense voice. "After everything you have sacrificed.I cannot believe that he would."  
  
Her fingers on his lips stilled his words, and his rage calmed at the soothing smile she gave him. "It's over and done with," she told him. "It's been six months.I've been able to move on, with the help of Yui, and my family. It.still hurts.but I won't die, I know that." Her eyes saddened as she gazed at him. "What hurts the most, I think, is everything that everyone had gone through to help us be together, fighting.dying.all for the sake of destiny. Even Yui in the end.she realized the truth and let herself be devoured, all for us. And he just.blew it off.like it never even mattered." She threw her arms around him suddenly, burying her face in her neck as a sob shook her body. "When you died, Hotohori, I felt my heart break," she wept. "It hurt.so much. And I felt so guilty, because I was never able to repay you for everything you'd ever done for me. And I'd never let myself love you the way you wanted, the way you deserved. And I wasn't there. You needed me and I wasn't there for you! How could you ever forgive me for that?!"  
  
"Miaka," he whispered, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder, letting go of all the guilt and grief that she's harbored for so long. One slender hand stroked soothingly up and down her back as he murmured comforting words into her hair. "Don't cry, Miaka," he whispered. "Don't feel guilty, don't feel sad. It was never your fault, not any of it. You loved me as much as you were able to, and I am grateful for everything you gave me, even though I always pressed you for more. If I made you feel guilty for not loving me enough, I am so deeply sorry. Perhaps I was an emperor, but I was still just a man; just a selfish, lonely man who wanted to be loved for himself, and that is exactly what you did. How could I not have loved you for that? If I could not give you my love or my empire.my life was the next best thing. I told you.I belong to you. I always have. I always will. That is my destiny."  
  
Her sobs had quieted, and she was staring at him now with a look of wonder in her eyes. Stray tears still sparkled on her lashes and lined her cheeks, and he gently kissed them away before taking her lips in a deep, infinitely tender kiss meant to heal the wounds in both of their hearts.  
  
It was during this beautiful moment that Miaka's older brother decided to throw open her bedroom door with a rather obnoxious bang, and a loud, "Hey, little sis, do you intend to sleep all day?" before he suddenly realized that he was interrupting something.rather private, and stopped dead in his tracks to openly gawk at the spectacle.  
  
The two would-be lovers jumped apart with startled expressions and Miaka hid behind Hotohori, never mind the fact that he was the one without the clothes.  
  
"Uh." Keisuke's gaze drifted back and forth between the two guilty faces, crouched together on the bed, before honing in on Hotohori, eyes narrowing at the tall man's state of undress. "I know you." he muttered. "You.you're that Hotohori guy, right?"  
  
"Uh.yes." Hotohori blinked at him, a bit bemused, not quite certain as to who it was that had barged in on them so rudely.  
  
"Is there.something anyone would care to explain?" Keisuke asked with false sweetness. "I dunno, something along the lines of how and why you're in my sister's bedroom at seven o'clock in the morning wearing nothing but a sheet?!"  
  
"Uh." For once, Hotohori's diplomatic training failed him as he realized that he had no idea how to answer that question. He had the feeling that any answer he gave-the truth or otherwise-was liable to earn him a couple of black eyes or maybe a smashed nose. Heaven help him if anything happened to his beautiful face!  
  
Luckily for him, Miaka (now long-used to Keisuke's hysterics when it came to his baby sister's love life) stepped forward with a take-charge air. "There's a perfectly good explanation for it," she stated primly, folding her arms across her chest in a good imitation of a stuffy teacher. "Hotohori used to be a moth, you see, and he died and then he turned back into himself and he happened to be in my bedroom while doing so." She conveniently left out the fact that she'd brought him there in the first place, and that the only reason he'd changed was because he was there, with her. "So, as moths don't normally go around wearing clothes, what do you expect would happen?" she finished snidely, looking smug at her reasonable justification.  
  
Keisuke, however, looked more confused than reassured, answering his sister's rambling with a rather profound, "Huh?" He wondered if he should head to the nearest phone and call up an asylum to schedule a nice, long vacation for his obviously insane sister. He glanced at Hotohori doubtfully, but the other man merely regarded him with a serene air, looking quite at home standing in the middle of Miaka's bedroom with a pink sheet tied around his waist. Keisuke wondered a bit jealously if he'd ever be able to look that good wrapped up in a pink sheet, then blinked and abruptly shook his head to rid it of the rather disturbing thought.  
  
"I.think I'm sorry I asked," he muttered, scratching his head. "At any rate, you'd better get ready for school; Mom'll throw a fit if you're late again.  
  
"Keisuke." Miaka smiled at him sweetly, although there was a hint of steel in her eyes which made her brother slightly nervous. "Have you forgotten about the fact that it is Sunday and therefore there is no school?"  
  
Keisuke blinked at her, sweatdropping a little as he realized that she was.absolutely right. "Erm.oops?" he offered sheepishly.  
  
Miaka would have lunged at him and cheerfully throttled him on the spot, if not for the fact that Hotohori's arms were once more around her waist. "I take it this is your elder brother?" he murmured into her ear.  
  
"Yeah, the very same," she muttered. "The one with all the common sense of a retarded poodle."  
  
"Hey!" Keisuke looked offended, while Hotohori attempted to hold in a laugh (although he had no idea what a "retarded poodle" actually was). "I don't think you should be talking about me being retarded. I'm not the one having a serious make-out session with a strange man in my bed at seven AM," he growled, glaring at her warningly.  
  
Miaka smirked. This was too easy. "Well, I'd have to say I'm really glad about that, dear brother, or I think I'd have some serious questions to ask about your sexual preferences." she began innocently.  
  
"That's not what I meant!" Keisuke yelled as his face turned bright red.  
  
Miaka dissolved into giggles, leaning weakly against Hotohori, who was watching her with a bit of awe. This was a side to her that he'd never witnessed before, this witty, playful (rather naughty, he thought with a bit of scandalized amusement) bantering that she apparently reserved only for those who knew her best. Oh, sure, she'd teased her Seishi in the past- specifically Tamahome, Tasuki, and Nuriko, and sometimes even Hotohori himself-but despite that there had always been an air of gentleness and respect to her teasing. She'd never out-and-out insulted anybody like that before as she clearly enjoyed doing to her brother. Hotohori found it rather.fascinating.  
  
"You really shouldn't yell like that, Keisuke," Miaka was scolding. "You wouldn't want Mom to come running in here, would you?" Meaning, specifically, that she didn't want Mom to come running in there.  
  
Keisuke snorted as his face began to resume its normal color. "Luckily for you, Mom already left. She had an early meeting for work today and she won't be home until late this evening. I wonder what would have happened if she'd been the one to stumble in here, don't you?"  
  
Miaka blanched at the mere thought, suddenly not so cocky anymore.  
  
Keisuke smirked. "Well, anyway, now that you're both.awake, you might as well have some breakfast. Only.let me do the cooking, all right? You wouldn't want to kill Hotohori on his first visit, would you?" He dodged a hastily-thrown pillow and added with a smirk, "I think I can find something for you to wear, Hotohori, so if you'll please follow me.?"  
  
Hotohori looked at Miaka doubtfully. She gave him a reassuring smile and a nod, to which he shot her a loving smile in return-one that promised later continuation to what had been interrupted; a thought that made her shiver- and followed the other man out the door, listening to mutters of, "Why can't I have a sister who dates normal guys? Ones who come with clothes? Is that too much to ask?" all the way.  
  
"Oh, get over it, Keisuke!" Miaka hollered playfully after him. "You know you're gonna have a blast dressing him up in your coolest outfits, so quit pitching a fit about it!"  
  
There was a moment of silence-during which Hotohori muffled yet another laugh-before Keisuke began muttering again and slamming all the doors in his room.  
  
Miaka flopped back onto her bed and hugged herself tightly as she allowed childish giggles to erupt from her throat. Teasing Keisuke was so much fun sometimes, and she'd shocked Hotohori, she could tell. She supposed she should be embarrassed at allowing the reserved emperor to see that particular side to her, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Besides, he hadn't seemed to mind her bantering, so why bother trying to be proper? They weren't in Konan anymore. He wasn't an emperor, and she was no longer a priestess. They were just two normal, everyday human beings.who happened to have an extraordinary history together.  
  
She listened to her brother gushing over how "cool" Hotohori looked in whatever outfit he'd dressed him up in, with the other man's honestly blunt, "Yes, I know," and "of course," comments thrown in, and had to grin at the absurdity of the situation. Wait until she took him out to explore the city, it'd probably shock the narcissism right out of him, she thought with a giggle, although doubtful it'd stay gone for long. But that was okay; Hotohori wouldn't be Hotohori without his most endearing quality, after all.  
  
She definitely intended to drag him over to Yui's house, if only to rub her friend's face in the fact that this was what she'd first wanted Miaka to kill, and see, she shouldn't kill moths 'cause one never knew if it was actually a reincarnated Seishi just waiting for his chance to become human again.  
  
Although, considering how Yui felt about her Seishi, she doubted that'd be a good enough argument to convince Yui not to hate moths anymore, anyway.  
  
Miaka yawned and stretched, deciding that breakfast definitely sounded good right about then (and besides, she really wanted to get a look at Hotohori in modern street clothes. I mean, wow), and lazily got to her feet to prepare for the day.  
  
There was a faint crash and a yell from Keisuke as something breakable was apparently dropped, and she rolled her eyes and grinned, deciding that it was high time to rescue poor Hotohori from her brother's maniacal clutches, before Keisuke permanently scarred the poor man. "Don't worry, Hotohori! I'll save you!" she called playfully, barging into her brother's room, where she came to a screeching halt and stared, open-mouthed, at a very transformed Hotohori.  
  
Tight black jeans that fit like a glove and emphasized muscular calves and trim waist.loose-fitting, silk shirt the color of emeralds, unbuttoned halfway down to expose that marvelous chest.even his bare feet looked sexy! Miaka thought she might actually be getting vapors.  
  
"So." Keisuke's voice radiated smug satisfaction. "How's he look?"  
  
Words could not describe.  
  
But the slightly-loopy grin that spread slowly across her features, and the dreamy approval radiating from her ultra-sparkly eyes, were quite eloquent enough.  
  
Miaka in full-out fangirl-mode was a rather frightening thing to witness.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Keisuke ran a hand through his hair arrogantly. "I tell ya, I should go into business."  
  
Apparently, Hotohori's narcissism was contagious.  
  
"Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let us now adjourn to the grand dining hall." Otherwise known as the kitchen. ".for a feast fit for.well.an emperor!" Meaning, scrambled eggs and bacon added to the usual routine of cold cereal and milk.  
  
Keisuke, clearly satisfied with a job well-done, practically strutted out of the room toward the kitchen, while a long-suffering Miaka merely sighed and shook her head as she started after him. A warm, heavy weight suddenly draped itself gently around her shoulders, and she blinked in surprise and then smiled up into Hotohori's eyes. "So.I look okay then?" he asked with pretend modesty.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him and poked him in the ribs playfully. "You know you do," she replied with a giggle. He shot her an unrepentant grin in response, then cupped her chin with his free hand and tilted her face upward to receive his tender kiss.which ended up lasting far longer than he'd first planned, but that was certainly okay with him. He really liked kissing Miaka, and now that he had her full and heartfelt permission to do so, he intended to make the most of it, in as many ways as possible. Now that he had found her again, he intended to never, ever let her go.  
  
And Miaka certainly had no objections about that.  
  
~~End~  
  
Wai!! Wasn't that great? Once again. Not mine. Stormlight's fic!! She's on my favorites list if you want to email her and tell her how awesome she is!  
  
*makes shooing motions with hands* Go! Now! At the very least review so she can come and see what people thought!! 


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